Stephen Batchelor on Self and Solitude

Although the history of Western encounters
with Buddhism is over a century old, Stephen Batchelor has offered a new
approach he calls "agnostic Buddhism" through his books and writings since the
1980's. What does he have to offer in regards to a philosophy of solitude
and self? In three interesting books and a number of articles, Batchelor lays
out a
groundwork for an accessible philosophy of life, but he falls short of providing the
framework and the mechanics of self and solitude, not progressing beyond his
initial outlay of logic and rumination.

Alone With Others (1983)

Batchelor's quest is for an existential Buddha, essentially rethinking the
heart of the historical Gotama's quest with the latter's confrontation of
existential questions in reflecting on old age, sickness, and death. This
foundation is laid out in Alone With Others, where Batchelor
relies almost entirely on Martin Heidegger's categories of being-alone and
being-with-others. This, it will be seen, has its own problems.

Batchelor's deconstruction of Buddhism is not a demythologization like Rudolf
Bultmann's approach to Christianity. Nor is it a scholar's critical
reconstruction in the style of John Dominic Crossan and others working on the
"historical" Jesus. Perhaps its affinities are closer to the lyric
conceptualization of Ernst Renan's Jesus or Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha, where a
philosophical sentiment reigns in a sympathetic attempt to capture the life and
thinking of a sage. Except that Batchelor intends to extract a great deal more
than these portraits, but a great deal less than what pious Eastern accounts
have added.

Batchelor is concerned that the interpretations and embellishments to the
life and teachings of Gotama over the centuries obscure the core of Gotama's
existential questions, the very style in which he posed them and intended to
work them out. Batchelor believes that Westerners will be misled in solving
their own existential questions if their introduction to the historical Gotama
(it's hard not to make the parallel to the "historical" Jesus) is seen
through the eyes of religion, not philosophy.

Gotama solves the being-alone
question with the ideas of contingency, impermanence, and rejection of the
atman or self. The result should be "authentic being-alone." as
Batchelor puts it. Gotama solves the
being-with-others dilemma by resolving to compassionately share his insight with
others rather than keeping it to himself. The result should be "authentic
being-with-others." That sharing is the model of the bodhisattva, and
reflects the transition from arhat in Theravadan tradition to
bodhisatva in the Mahayan traditions.

Here is the first problem. Batchelor see inauthentic being-with-others as
"desirous attachment, aversion, and indifference, " which he contrasts to
equanimity.

Equanimity sees others as they are; no one is essentially desirable, no one
is essentially repugnant, and no one is essentially insignificant. All are
essentially sentient beings, hoping and fearing, loving and hating, living and
dying.

This insight becomes the basis for interaction which is society. Society does contain
a degree of civility without attachment, as in the concept of justice, although
Batchelor hardly elaborates. He sees these virtues strictly in terms of
relationships, and sketches out values for what he calls a "culture of
awakening," which is an idea of great potential. But he remains restricted,
ironically, to a vision of fulfilling these virtues only in the context of his
revised and modernized Buddhism, as dharma and sangha.

In his next
major book, Buddhism Without Belief, came the opportunity to extend this
secular vision of Buddhism and to elaborate on what Alone With Others begins.

Buddhism Without Beliefs (1997)

In a later interview, Batchelor acknowledges that this book could well be
titled "Buddhism Without Dogma," since the original title projects a sense of
skepticism. The author delineates his own notion of "agnostic
Buddhism," by which he means a Buddhism with Gotama's questions not resolved
into tenets of belief but open to the particular path pursued by the individual,
with Gotama as his existential guide.

The arguments of this book are presented in three sections: 1) Ground, 2)
Path, and 3) Fruition. The first section revisits the notion that "the Buddha awoke
from the sleep of existential confusion" to recognize what Bathelor calls four "ennobling
truths." He does not want these truths to become ossified tenets of belief or religious
precepts but working experiences. He calls dukkha or suffering "anguish," and
prefers the term "awakening" for the traditional term "enlightenment" because he
demurs from an enlightenment that presents itself as a goal or mystical
experience. Instead, the focus is on the methodology of the historical Gotama,
and his immediate successors, which Batchelor considers to be free of
metaphysical speculation and focused on existential questions.

Historically, Buddhism has tended to lose its agnostic dimension through
becoming institutionalized as a religion (i.e., a revealed belief system valid
for all time, controlled by an elite body of priests). At times this process
has been challenged, and even reversed (one thinks of iconoclastic Indian
tantric sages, early Zen masters in China, eccentric yogins of Tibet, forest
monks of Burma and Thailand).

Interestingly, Batchelor is here referring to hermits when he speaks
of exceptions to the institutionalized model. Yet he does not pursue these
models to
make his point. He does not realize that this model is what guarantees the
vitality of Buddhism, and , indeed, the processes that Batchelor pursues. Perhaps
the hermits -- who tolerated but demurred from institutionalized settings -- would undermine
Batchelor's concept of sangha
and community.

At the same time, as critics of Batchelor might point out, the institutionalization of Buddhism
provided the safeguards to scriptures, analysis, discussion, and community,
especially in the face of challenges in historical India and elsewhere over the centuries.
Similarly, the encounters with other cultures of Asia provoked new and
insightful reinterpretations based on culture, philosophy, religion, and
thought. Though Batchelor admits to not having a background in Christianity, the
historical parallels to Christianity are obvious. The historical figure of Jesus
was largely preserved by written texts, exegesis, and practice fostered by
institutionalized religion over the centuries. Eremiticism may have preserved
the heart but institutions have preserved the body, however unhealthy.

Batchelor's approach in Buddhism Without Beliefs moves from classic
existentialism to an outright agnosticism, by which he means suspension of assent to
metaphysical propositions. He argues that this method follows the Buddha's own advice to Malunkyaputta
about one being wounded by a poison arrow and the urgency of the wounded one not to
pursue questions about the assailant, the type of poison, the bow used, etc., but
to just get the arrow out. Hence, reincarnation is viewed by Batchelor as a Hindu
vestige, rebirth as "an interactive cluster of processes," and emptiness as a
trajectory or matrix of contingencies. Even compassion is redefined as the
"absence of self-centered craving," wherein the dangers of worldly values is in
subverting the virtues of this selflessness.

All of these redefinitions do presuppose a skepticism rather than a n
agnosticism. How many Zen koans presuppose a kind of agnosticism, but not a
skepticism. We may not know all the mysteries of the universe, but we need not
doubt them.

Perhaps the most important points Batchelor offers are in the section called
"Fruition," namely, freedom, imagination, and culture. These issues extrapolate
Buddhism into the realm of practicality. Freedom is always relative: freedom
from something. Self-centeredness misconstrues freedom as independence from
things rather than understanding of things. Understanding the contingent nature
of things brings freedom, for we are never free of them. Understanding brings
freedom from the cycles of suffering and craving, complimented by mindful
awareness, which brings us closer in touch with what is real, such as the breath
and the workings of mind. But also closer in touch with the mystery of
existence, wherein no question or demand is made, only awareness. Agendas and
expectations fall away. Life's ambiguity becomes something merely to observe.

Awakening is both a linear process of freedom that is cultivated over time
and an ever present possibility of freedom. The central path is both a track
with a beginning and an end and the formless potentiality at the very
center of experience.

This freedom brings the freedom to creatively realize the possibilities of
self-creation, which is imagination. Not unexpectedly, Batchelor prefers the word "self-creation"
rather than transcendence. However, he sees this creativity or imagination at the
service of others -- in keeping to the notion of "being-with-others" -- which
leads to what he calls a culture of awakening.

But Batchelor never develops the notion of a culture of awakening as more
than a redefined and extrapolated sangha. He does not pursue useful currents of engaged Buddhism or the
kind of work proposed by, say, Buddhadhasa in Thailand with his "dhammic
socialism," or E. F. Schumacher's Buddhist economics, or even the very
general applications of Buddhism to modern social issues reflected in the Dalai
Lama's Ethics for a New Millennium or Robert Thurmon's Infinite Life: Seven Virtues for Living Well. Understanding is limited to a purely
abstract philosophical understanding, just as the culture of awakening is barely
touched upon as more than an ideal.

A culture of awakening is forged from the tension between an indebtedness to
the past and a responsibility to the future. ... [It] cannot exist independently
of the specific social, religious, artistic and ethnic cultures in which it is
embedded. It emerges out of creative interactions with these cultures without
either rejecting or being absorbed by them. It will inevitably assume certain
features of contemporary culture, perhaps inspiring and revitalizing some
dimensions of it, which also maintaining a critical perspective.

Living with the Devil (2004)

In Living with the Devil, Batchelor uses the metaphors of Mara and
Satan to address the psychological and ethical dimensions of Buddhism. Here are
some useful thoughts on both Mara and Satan as obstructions to the path, not
personalities to confront and argue with. This approach permits the author to
explore hindrances to our individual paths, and to revisit favorite notions of
self and society. At least here Batchelor is a little more forceful in speaking
about the culture of awakening and criticizing modern culture.

The creation of a nonviolent world is founded on an empathetic respect for
the inviolable freedoms and rights of others. The oppressed call out to be free
to pursue a path, unconstrained by he constraints placed on them by Mara's
latter-day army of governments, religions, superpowers, and market forces. ...

This passage updates the content with a timely allusion to war and
globalization, certainly relevant in a book about good and evil, though it comes
at the very end of the book.

CONCLUSION

The chief weakness of Batchelor's approach to Buddhism is quickly perceived
by the traditional Buddhist but also by the Western non-Buddhist. Batchelor
employs the tools of Western rationalism and science exclusively. He never
acknowledges the bias of his tools or seeks to justify them -- especially given
the abject failure of many Western values in the world context. Nor does he ever
acknowledges himself to be part of the efforts of over a century of "modern"
Buddhism, as outlined by David S. Lopez among others. Into this history of
modern Buddhism, chiefly inspired by Westerners, agnostic Buddhism fits
squarely, if uniquely.

Batchelor's tendency to substitute and thereby change the meaning of Buddhist
terms ("anguish" for suffering, "awakening" for enlightenment, "ennobling"
truths for noble truths, etc.) is bound to mislead the novice to Buddhism. It
also cuts the reader off from centuries of fruitful reflection on Buddhism,
especially in the Chan/Zen tradition where dogma, scripture, and logic are not
taken for granted either. Indeed, the agnostic approach nearly becomes a formal
materialism rather than a Middle Way, and the dilution of enlightenment tends to
favor old-fashioned rationalism. Batchelor's pronouncements are not so much
"don't know" as "doesn't matter." He picks and chooses the psychological
elements, rejects the import of mythological or metaphysical outright, and
transforms enlightenment into a collective experience.

The chief vulnerability is the absence of what must be called spirituality,
which is neither religion nor logic, neither emotion nor cerebralism. Does
agnostic Buddhism speak to the heart? That is the basis of society, not reason.
Imagination has a stronger component of creativity than Batchelor is willing to
concede, a stronger component of individuality as solitary and productive.
Insight and understanding -- if not enlightenment -- are very solitary efforts
and experiences. Even if the bodhisattva returns to share compassion with
others, it is compassion, not enlightenment, that is shared.

Though the moral and ethical components of Batchelor's work are constructive,
there is lacking an ascetic core that reduces his efforts to a vague
psychological well-being and no more. Who will be attracted to an agnostic
Buddhism that does not engage real-world predicaments with a solid path? J.
Krishnamurti could claim the territory Batchelor covers while never appealing to
any specific tradition -- though he was clearly influenced by both Buddhism and
Western thought.

Interestingly, Batchelor's chief claim to be following the early sutras for
the historical Gotama never recognizes the radical solitude that earliest
Buddhism espouses, even from the beginning. He sees the evolution from arhat
to bodhisattva as inevitable, when, of course, it was a process of ages
and of cultural shifts. The emergence of the bodhisattva
presupposes a body of religious premises that reduce compassion to concepts of
charity and duty. At one point Batchelor alludes to this:

The self-creation of individuation and the world-creation of social
engagement cannot exist apart from each other. They are united within a common
culture, which configures them in a meaningful and purposeful whole.

But where we see these elements integrated creatively is in the Tibetan
Buddhist hermits Milarepa and Shabkar, and in the radical eremiticism of the
Chinese and Japanese hermits like Han-shan, Saigyo, Ippen, and Ryokan. These
hermits understood not only their philosophical convictions but also the nature
and potential of society. There is no attempt to reconcile the social and the
solitary in agnostic Buddhism. Society and common culture are not successfully
defended. More telling for a philosophy of solitude is Batchelor's conclusion
that "Individuation and social engagement become two poles of a culture of
awakening."

Ironically, Batchelor is far more approachable and incisive in his essays and
talks. Some fruitful articles include "The Lessons of History," "The Freedom to
Be No One," "Existence, Enlightenment and Suicide," and the interview
"Absolutely Not!" In these formats, the writer sweeps up a number of themes with
a deft command of literature, philosophy, and erudition, and does so for a more
well-read but observant reader than in the generalized books.

Overall, the development of a philosophy of solitude can be well served by a
non-dogmatic approach to Buddhist principles that Batchelor presents. But
Batchelor is not interested in developing that philosophy. He clearly stands
alone if not friendless in his school of thinking among other than Westernized
Buddhists. Though he cannot write what he does not believe, it would be an
interesting extrapolation to see this form of modern Buddhism work out a more
reflective basis for solitude in an interdependent world.